


Dancing With The Devil

by TheAuthorWhoWrote



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Drama, F/M, Fluff, post cannon, slight AU, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22083487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAuthorWhoWrote/pseuds/TheAuthorWhoWrote
Summary: Joel wasn’t too much a religious man...But when he looked into those eyes— those beautiful, wide; green eyes...He knew he was dancing with the devil.
Relationships: Ellie & Joel (The Last of Us), Ellie/Joel (The Last of Us)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 88





	Dancing With The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Now, before we get started here this is a full Joel x Ellie romance one shot. Now; while this is a weird pairing... I took it upon myself in 2020 to challenge my writing styles to more.... unorthodox pairings. While I love these two and the weird idea of them being together, I do _not _personally support this in real life. This is merely fanfiction; I’ve held you here long enough; I really do hope you enjoy.__  
>  Also; Instead of Joel lying to Ellie at the end of the game I’ve taken the liberty to have Ellie make him promise something else.
> 
> Thanks Dreamsong❤️

Joel didn't think much about her when he was in the middle of a fight unless she was throwing him a med kit, or shooting clickers herself. But he knew she could take care of herself and she was too headstrong to admit if she couldn't. 

Lately though, fighting raiders in cramped corners of abandoned buildings was a bit frightening. He'd charge and she'd follow, hiding in a spot that was close enough in case he needed help. 

He found that he was becoming more afraid for her in the middle of his fights, catching glimpses of her trying to stay close as he charged, fire and bullets just barely missing her.

After the last fight it was enough to send him reeling. He couldn't look at her without his heart swelling. He felt an overwhelming needn't to protect her but he wasn't one to upset boundaries, especially if she didn't reciprocate. Though the boundaries that were set; _age_ being one of them— kept him headstrong. From looking at her in a sick perverted way.

He didn’t want to become the one thing he protected her from.

He had thought about it many a time, just reaching out and holding her for a bit, just to know that she was safe in his arms. But every time they touched he felt guilty, even if it was something so simple like when they’d hug, or high five.

"Joel," she called hesitantly, making him snap out of his thought. "You okay?"

"Hm," he responded brushing her off and it left a little pang in his chest when she flinched at the metaphorical distance he created. "Who’d guess gettin’ to Tommy’s would be this much damn work, huh?" He added lightheartedly.

“ _Fuck_ , not me. But it’ll be nice getting to be around people. That aren’t trying to kill us y’know?”

“Damn straight.”

She managed a smile at his attempt at comraderie. "You're not really the social type are you, Joel?" She asked as he surveyed the room for anything they could loot.

"How'd you guess that? I’m quite a social flower." He responded sarcastically.

She huffed a breath that sounded like a laugh. "Well because i’m not really the most social person either. Well I wouldn’t say that— because of Sam and Riley..." she added, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear and hugging herself.

He looked back at her from over his shoulder. She really made him feel something. It wasn’t right for him to feel it; he knew that damn much. He turned his gaze back around and they started for the next room.

"We have charisma, at least," he managed to say.

The corner of her mouth tugged up in the makings of grin at his compliment or his attempt at one at least. She hummed in response, causing his stomach to churn a bit. But in a good way.

Though he waved this feeling off absentmindedly as he heard footsteps approaching. _Raiders_.

There was no less than three of them, chattering loudly about things he didn't care to remember. "Stay hidden," he whispered as he hid behind a pillar.

He charged in. The room of raiders irrupted in fury as he beat at them with the butt of his shotgun and shiv. A heavy man with a shotgun and a few bullet wounds made him sprint to hide behind a wall, Ellie following him and ducking before the gunfire could reach her.

Goddamn, that was close. When this was over he would say _"fuck it"_ and hold her, he decided. No matter how wrong it may feel.

He loaded his El Diablo and had enough bullets to charge in and shoot the remaining two men.

He scanned the room to make sure it was clear. The only sound he heard were his and Ellie’s breath as they both panted like animals. The sound of her shoes approached him and her breathing steadied.

He was too high on adrenaline to feel the pain of his scratches and bullet wounds. He whipped around to look at her. Before he could talk himself out of it, he was wrapping his arms around her waist and he nearly sighed when she didn't resist. His heart leapt in his throat as he slightly held onto her smaller frame tightly.

She wrapped her arms around his front, letting her hands rest on his back like they were meant to rest there. He placed a hand on her shoulder blade and the other rested gently on the small of her back like she was paper and he didn't want to crumple her. He could feel her cheek press against his chest as she pulled him closer.

_This is too damn wrong. You’re a damn pervert._

He let go and spun around. "I'm sorry," he mumbled as he inched forward.

"Don't be," she responded not bothering to hide the disappointment at the loss of his embrace.

It seemed she wanted to be held as much as he wanted to hold her. He was relieved but he still felt guilty for not really asking permission. As if he knew how to ask permission. She had said it herself; he wasn't really the social type.

_You’re old enough to be her fucking dad._

He was about to reach for his discarded shotgun when he felt something soft and warm enter his hand. It was her hand. His gaze trailed up her arm, along her shoulder and her neck until it reached her face. He read her expression and she looked— like she wanted something and he was standing in her way.

_There’s a special place in hell for you._

He couldn't help noticing her lips. They were so perfect and pink, a little chapped and slightly parted as she eyed him. She looked like she was contemplating what to do next. He echoed her expression. His gaze softened.

Joel wasn’t too much a religious man...

But when he looked into those eyes— those _beautiful_ , _wide_ ; green eyes—

_He knew he was dancing with the devil._

In an impulsive gesture he reached his hand up. He hesitated as she watched his hand curiously but managed to reach her chin. She let out a breath she had been holding as he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. Her eyes fluttered shut and he could feel her breath on his cheek. When did they get so damn close?

Those scattered freckles, her slight sunburn— Jesus why was she _so damn perfect_?

Her wide eyes were looking up at him; expecting.

"Joel," she gasped, nearly moaning his name. It made his heart flutter and a wave of arousal rush through him. It made him feel guilty again.

_You’re going to hell._

He wanted to draw back and tell her _“Let’s get a move on.”_ but he found himself saying, "Can I..."

" _Please_ ," she interrupted in a breathy beg.

He gave her a gentle kiss, pressing his lips slowly. It would've been a chaste kiss if he had pulled away quickly but he lingered, feeling her breath as she exhaled.

When he pulled away he admired her face. Her freckled cheeks slightly flushed, her eyes fluttered open, they carried a sense of longing and love in them. He couldn’t believe it took him this long to realize how beautiful his girl was.

“ _Fuck_.” he muttered as he kissed her again, more firmly this time; feeling her breath pick up when she felt his proximity. He moved his hand down from her chin to her neck, his fingertips gently brushing against her pulse point.

He licked her bottom lip and she let out a small gasp that turned into a whine when his lips crashed against hers. He kissed her hastily and she responded by exploring his mouth with her tongue. He could feel her eagerness and hesitation as her hands came up to tangle themselves in his shirt, pulling him closer. He drank her breaths with greedy gulps as his lips captured hers in a slow and passionate rhythm.

She nipped at his bottom lip causing him to stifle a groan and the sound just excited her more, but in a sudden rush she pulled away. She nearly had to force herself off of his mouth, her cheek rested against his in an attempt to keep as much contact as possible.

The both of them were breathing heavily as they tried to catch their breath. Her hands were still tangled in his shirt but his had moved to her shoulders, carefully pulling her close so that she could feel the heat that radiated off of him.

“Fuck.” Ellie breathed.

She’d been waiting on this since they’d been on that college campus. Before he’d gotten injured.

“ _Ellie_ ,” he looked hesitant.

She shushed him.

“You can’t deny you _loved_ that.”

He pulled her in for another kiss; a chaste one.

“Sure in the hell cant.”

She giggles as he nuzzles her neck.

“We best get a move on. We’re almost at Tommy’s.”

She beamed a smile up at him; a satisfied dreamy smile.

“Mkay.”

She reached for his hand and he grabbed it, interlacing their fingers.

The sun was in the beginning stages of setting; the hues of orange and blue in the sky contrasted on the horizon, blending into an almost purple color. As the pair walked to their destination.

“Joel.”

“Hm?”

He turned his gaze so that it was was fixed on her eyes… those breathtaking eyes full of suffering, and hope, believing they were witnessing their last. Full of adoration and regret, as if she had glimpsed a future they couldn’t have. She was guiding his hand as if to her cheek, seemingly encouraging his affection. Only a day ago he would have been looking at her differently, as a fill-in daughter, but now– now he was looking at her as if witnessing some divine judgement.

Before he knew what he was doing his free hand was reaching out for her cheek, fingers extended, waiting for her to complete her guiding gesture so that he knew her consent had been granted. He wanted her softly rounded face in his calloused hands, wanted to feel her soft, freckled skin underneath his thumbs. He needed to know that his hands could be used for more than just death and destruction.

As if she had registered that very need, Ellie hesitated, her movements stilling. Drinking in the sight of his usually stoic face newly softened with concern, her pupils darted to and fro and back again. She realised with a jolt that the line of his lips looked so appealing when they weren’t tugged down into a tight frown. 

Uncertainty coiled in her stomach. She had been about to thrust his hand towards her throat and beg him to end her misery should they have no other way out, and yet… something was stopping her. She’d picked up on the way he was reaching out to her - an action so subtle, something so easily missed - yet soothing to say the least. Goaded on by his willingness, she ignored the instinct to force his hand to her neck, a weight lifting from her shoulders as his large, encompassing palm pressed against her cheek. She held him there, letting him know that his touch was welcome, a ragged sigh escaping from her lips.

Joel, too, released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, relaxing his tense muscles, savouring the moment. He watched as the dark crescent of Ellie’s lashes lowered over her eyes until they had drifted closed entirely, her nose gently turning towards his palm.

“… don’t…” she began, her breath hitching. _“… don’t leave like the rest,”_ This time she spoke in a way that was barely above a whisper, quiet enough that he wasn’t sure she’d intended for him to hear. Intended or not, Joel had heard, and the plea inspired some newfound territorial thoughts within him. He imagined, in that fleeting moment, that she was his and his alone - not a filler for Sarah, but his girl - _his_ babygirl- to protect. _Just as he’d always done._

He was snapped from this thoughts when her lips brushed against his life-line, pressing into his palm in a tender, heartfelt kiss that thawed the ice that had long-since formed around his weathered heart. The sight of it left him temporarily without air, heat rising up the column of his neck. 

_I’d die for her_ , he realised suddenly. The notion was no wishful sentiment, nor was it exaggerated or idealised; it was a fact he knew to be true. Grim as it was, it wasn’t distressing, just as it wasn’t comforting. He wasn’t deluded enough to believe it made him a hero; he was no more than a man that owed her too much. Besides… he cared for her more than he liked to admit. The feeling of her lips pressed against his palm was as stark reminder of that, driving him half-mad with his need to save her in anyway that he possibly could. 

“I won’t let _anyone_ or _anything_ take you from me,” Joel heard himself saying, just as his second hand raised to cup her opposing cheek. His fingers delved into Ellie’s hair, brows lowering over his eyes with the certainty of his statement.

As long as there was breath in his body, he wouldn’t stop fighting for her. It had gone beyond the realms of what he’d considered once as _‘just a job’_ — as far as he was concerned the deal was already off. The fireflies were dead. The only thing worth risking life and limb for wasn’t guns, it was to love again, and he found it in her eyes.

If this was what _‘dancing with the devil’_ felt like, Joel considered taking him on a tango for a while; _just for her_.

Screw the world. Screw everything that wasn’t Ellie.

The line of Joel’s bearded jaw was hard with the weight of his word, his hazel eyes boring into her beautiful, wide green ones.

“I promise.” He swore, drinking in the sight of her, silently thanking Marlene for giving him this smuggle job in the first place; thinking that she’d be easy to give up.


End file.
